


Senyera

by catmanu



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: FC Barcelona, Fluff, Hand Jobs, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Inspired By Yesterday's Events, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Socks, this was supposed to be short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 21:42:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21645889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catmanu/pseuds/catmanu
Summary: Whenever Barça comes to play in Madrid, Ivan and Luka try to spend the night together.After Barça's 1-0 win against Atlético, Ivan brings Luka a special gift--a pair of socks.
Relationships: Luka Modrić/Ivan Rakitić
Comments: 5
Kudos: 23





	Senyera

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the socks in Barça's new fourth kit, which you can kind of see in [this picture.](https://66.media.tumblr.com/76113950c9e917e7d153d44c7466fab7/53d1ffd660f49165-e5/s1280x1920/29107cbf8d48591c6676e662504cb862251d9b97.jpg) This is probably terrible but I'm unapologetic.

There’s nothing like the burn of the full 90 in his muscles again.

Nothing except for the tightness in his chest and the butterflies in his stomach as he waits for Luka to come through the door.

They don’t have a suite tonight.Ivan had thought about it, but something pushed him to choose someplace a little more normal, less conspicuous.Someplace no one would expect them to go.

Their room is simple—a big bed with lots of pillows, touristy artwork of Madrid on the wall, a little bathroom with a tub just big enough for him and one small midfielder, a TV, his suitcase on the desk, and the rain from earlier still pelting the window. 

And underneath the pouring rain, the sound of the key-card.Ivan jumps, nearly tripping over his own feet to greet Luka at the door.

Luka’s weight shoves him into the wall, and Luka’s lips keep him there.Ivan can’t tell how long the kiss lasts.It could have been ten seconds, could have been ten hours.It’s all he’s needed all day.

“Baby…you’re soaked,” he finally says, moving his lips to the top of Luka’s head.The fluffy hair is a few shades darker than normal and clings to his skull.Ivan’s always thought this makes his eyes look wider.

“I know.It’s raining so hard out now that just walking from my car to the door…Let’s move, I’m going to get you wet.”

“I’ll be okay,” Ivan says“We should get your clothes off, though.”

“Already?You can’t stop perving on me for five minutes?”Luka touches the tip of his nose to Ivan’s.It’s cold and damp.“I thought people are supposed to calm down with that stuff as they get older, yeah?”

“Who’re you calling old…” Ivan mumbles, his voice trailing off as he feels Luka’s soft, warm breaths on his skin.

“I guess Valverde decided you’re not too old to play after all, so I’ll take it back,” Luka says, and laughs a quieter version of that big, honest, open laugh of his.He steps back. 

“Luka,” Ivan says, curling a wet strand of hair around his finger for a moment.“I want you to start getting undressed.”

Luka doesn’t.He just stares at Ivan, concentrating hard on his face, waiting for him to continue.So it’ll be one of _those_ moments, then.Luka is always the one who decides how things go, even if he decides by doing nothing at all.

“I’m going to need you to listen to me, Luka,” Ivan whispers, running his finger along Luka’s jaw toward his chin, which he cups gently in his hand.He swears he can feel Luka shiver just from doing that.

“But I’m your _captain_ , Ivan. _You_ listen to _me._ ”

“I have a present for you, but I can’t give it to you if all these clothes are still on.”He reaches to undo Luka’s soaked jeans and runs his hand across the front just to confirm—Yeah, he hadn’t imagined that shiver. Luka arches against his hand.

“I _guess_ I’ll listen,” he says. Ivan catches him biting his lip the way he does when he doesn’t want to lose control yet.He takes off his jacket and hangs it up in the closet and then peels off his hoodie and t-shirt to lie them neatly across the chairs to dry.Ivan feels jumpy.Over ten years and sometimes Luka’s neatness still drives him the tiniest bit crazy. Not under everyday circumstances, but under _these—_

“Wait, stop,” Ivan says when Luka’s stripped down to just his briefs and black socks.“You look so _cold_ like this, I have to—Here.”He reaches into his suitcase and pulls out an extra hoodie he packed with him.It’s not too interesting—just an Adidas sweatshirt, the black faded to a very dark grey long ago—but it’s cozy and the cuffs are worn and Luka will disappear into it in the most adorable way possible.“Put this on.” He tosses it to Luka.

“Mmmm, okay,” Luka says, pulling it over his head.It’s long and loose without looking too ridiculous.It’s perfect.“Can I keep this?It smells like you.I like it.”

“Baby, you can keep anything of mine that you want,” Ivan says.“Sit down at the edge of the bed, okay?It’s time for your present.”

He takes it out of his suitcase—an extra pair of the socks from the senyera kit they’d worn earlier to beat Atleti. That he’d worn for a full 90 minutes.They’re long and bright yellow with red stripes going across horizontally and he knew as soon as he’d seen them that he’d need to see Luka in them. It took every drop of his professionalism to keep from thinking about Luka wearing them during the game.It was _that_ bad.It would be _that_ good. 

“Give me a drumroll, please, Señor Modrić,” he says, and Luka slaps the insides of his thighs a few times while Ivan gets down on his knees in front of him.

“It’s either a blowjob or a marriage proposal,” Luka says.

“I’d blow you anytime, it wouldn’t need a special introduction, you weirdo.”He tugs at the ends of Luka’s socks, pulling them off his feet.

“You just called me a weirdo, but you needed a whole drumroll just to take off my socks?”

Ivan ignores this and begins putting the bright yellow socks on Luka’s feet.He carefully rolls them all the way up his legs.They’re longer on him than they were on Ivan and between that and the oversized sweatshirt Ivan’s heart feels like it’s going to burst.It’s not just his heart that might burst, though.The front of his sweatpants is suddenly feeling too tight.

“Your surprise is that you’re making me wear _Barça colors?_ ” Luka says, his voice going up so high by the time he gets to the end of his question that it cracks a little.“Did I lose a bet I didn’t know about?”

“No, no,” Ivan says, and rests his head against Luka’s senyera legs.“It’s just that we played in this kit for the first time today and I thought about how good you’d look in these socks.And you do.You look really good.”He kisses each leg.“Really damn—”

“It’s okay, Ivan,” Luka says. “As much as it hurts, I’ll do it.I’ll wear your Barça socks, but only because it’s you.”

“Oh, _Luka_ ,” Ivan says, and Luka’s name catches in his throat like a sob.This means more to him than he could ever explain, but Luka will understand.

Luka leans down to kiss him.He strokes Ivan’s face as their lips come together, playing with the hair there, and the thrum of the full 90 in his muscles is melting away as Luka’s tongue licks into his mouth.He threads his fingers through Luka’s wet hair and whimpers against his lips.Luka chuckles; the vibrations of it feel incredible in his mouth, intimate in an unexpected way.

His phone starts to ring.

Luka knows who’s calling without having to check.“Hey…don’t keep your brother waiting,” he says, picking Ivan’s phone up off the bedside table and poking him with it.“He’s going to want to congratulate you.”

“True,” Ivan sighs.He’s not too thrilled about Dejan’s timing, but he’s not about to ignore his brother, either.

Dejan wants to talk about the game.Ivan gets up and walks into the bathroom to have his conversation, just to give Luka a little peace and quiet.

He keeps it short.Luka and the socks are waiting. 

When he leaves the bathroom he sees Luka’s heels and toes, still bundled up in his beautiful team’s beautiful colors, but that’s—but that’s _all_ he has on.Ivan swallows.Luka’s made his underwear and borrowed hoodie disappear and is lying there on his stomach naked, looking at Instagram and kicking his legs up and down. Everyone who’s ever called him _The Magician_ knew what they were talking about.Ivan runs his eyes up the stripes, over the place where sock turns to thigh, where thigh turns to the curve of his cute little ass.

And he swallows again.

“Uhh, Luka?”

“What’s up?”

“You look, uh.”Sometimes Luka made him feel like he was a stupid teenage boy again—but about a hundred times stupider.“You look fucking _perfect_ right now.I kind of want to take a picture.”

“Please _don’t,”_ Luka says.

“I’m not going to, but do you have any idea how you look right now?” Ivan asks desperately.“I just want to…I just need to…”

Luka rolls onto his back and Ivan takes a sudden breath at the sight, then lets it out in a hiss.Luka’s perfect abs and the sharp V of muscle along his hips go perfectly with the socks from his kit, just like he’d thought.He feels like some sort of genius.Also like a stupid teenage boy.

“I thought you were on Instagram,” Ivan says, pointing between Luka’s legs.“What’s that all about?Who were you looking at?”

“You,” Luka responds, and his voice is so suddenly thick with lust that Ivan knows it’s true. _Oh, Luka, Luka, Luka!_ “Come here, Ivan, please, I _want_ you.”

“And you need me,” Ivan mumbles.He’s thinking.

“I _do._ Come _over_ here already,” Luka pleads.He’s spread his legs—one is dangling off the bed and it’s so _lewd_ it makes Ivan forget to breathe for a second—and now he holds out his arms to Ivan.Ivan eyes his biceps as he strips down to his underwear. 

They have a whole night together, they have the bathtub and the big bed and the anonymity of the small hotel—if Ivan wants to fucking _howl_ Luka’s name later, he can without worrying that there’s a photographer outside the door—and now he knows how he wants everything to start.

He joins Luka, but not in the way Luka is asking. He sits behind his co-captain, his small, fierce midfielder, _his his his his,_ and nestles him against his lap.He’ll get fully hard soon and Luka will feel it against his ass and his back and he’ll enjoy leaning on it, moving up and down just a little.

He runs his hand down Luka’s stomach and wraps it around the length of him—Luka’s toes point and flex and point and flex in the yellow socks—and begins moving his hand, wrapping his free arm around Luka’s hips, cradling him.

“This is perfect,” he says.“Now I can do this while I look at how cute you are in my socks.”

“Come on… _cute?_ Fuck, Ivan, come on,” Luka sighs.“I played for Bosnia.I’m not cute.”

“That was a thousand years ago.You’re cute now.Especially in Barça socks.”

“If it were anyone else but you, I’d hate you,” Luka says. “But I love you instead.”

“I love you too,” Ivan says, and he moves his fist faster.Luka moves with him, urging his hips forward, thrusting into Ivan’s sweating palm. He blows out through his mouth and his drying hair flutters.His toes wiggle.His feet are very expressive in these socks. 

“Feels good—” Luka gasps, and Ivan moves his other hand to start stroking up and down Luka’s hips, brushing over his balls, still keeping an eye on the victorious senyera in front of him.

“You’re so beautiful like this, so perfect,” he mumbles, and Luka mouths _thank you,_ already half-undone by Ivan’s hand.He grinds against Ivan, who’s uncomfortably hard in his underwear.He wishes he’d taken it off, but he doesn’t want to move now.

“You like it like this?” Ivan continues, his fist tightening around Luka, his thumb running roughly over the tip and circling in the stickiness it finds there.“Wearing something that belongs to my club?To _your rival?_ Getting jerked off in it?”

“Yeah, I—”Ivan nips at his earlobe, making him stumble over his words. “—I do.I do.”

“I want you to say _Visca el Barça!_ when you come for me,” Ivan says, smirking. This gets him a kick in the shin, but Luka’s too far gone to do much more damage than that.He’s panting loudly through his parted lips and his hair is in his face. He’s so hot in Ivan’s grip that Ivan feels like he’s on fire.He moves his free hand away from Luka and shoves the waistband of his underwear down.He’s so hard it aches, now, a full good ache like his muscles did earlier.He needs contact with Luka’s skin.He moans shakily when he gets it.

“Oh, Luka,” he gasps.“ _Luka—”_

“Ivan—gonna c—“The warmth fills Ivan’s fist suddenly, leaking through the gaps between his fingers.He strokes Luka hard until the point when he knows to slow down.Luka shakes in his arms, whining just a bit, but enough to make Ivan press harder against him. His yellow-covered toes are clenched tightly, and then they release, and clench and release and clench and release. 

Then Luka tilts his head back and rests it on Ivan’s shoulder. His cheeks are flushed and with each breath Ivan can feel how satisfied he is. He leaves little kisses along Ivan’s jaw as he cools down.

Ivan reaches for a tissue to wipe his hand off.

“Can you believe there are people who get tired of doing things like this with the same person over and over again?” Luka says.

“It’s weird, huh?”

“Glad that’s not me,” Luka mumbles. He closes his eyes as Ivan begins to gently stroke his stomach. He wiggles his toes and runs his arches over Ivan’s feet.

“I love you,” Ivan says. “But you didn’t say it.”

“Say what?”

“What I told you to say when you, uhhhh.”

“Oh, right.” Luka grins and his eyes flicker open. “You mean... _Hala Madrid?_ ”

“You fucking—”Luka’s already wiggled out from between his legs and jumped off the bed, laughing.Ivan jumps after him, wrestling him down onto the rug.

“You’ve got some balls saying that in a Barça kit, Luka.”

Luka laughs.“Do you still think I’m _cute?_ ”

“In those socks?Absolutely.”

Luka smiles.“Can I keep them?”

“You have to,” Ivan says.“It’s not even an option.”He reaches for Luka’s feet, rubbing them lightly through the socks.Luka isn’t too ticklish; he can get away with it.“You’re going to wear them the whole night except for when we’re in the bathtub together.”He stands up and holds his hands out to pull Luka up with him. “I think we should go there now.”

“Can we wait?” Luka asks from the floor, smiling just shyly enough to make Ivan’s heart feel fluttery.“I want to have them on a little longer.”


End file.
